Runebinder (The Runebinder Chronicles #1)(87)

Worse, he felt the kravens that patrolled the empty streets or prowled within cages of steel and razor wire. He felt a few kravens feeding.

And in the other houses, the ones closer to the center of the city, he felt other human figures, sleeping in warm beds with embers glowing in the fireplace. The necromancers and higher-level Howls.

Deeper, and he felt what must surely have been Leanna’s house. It was a mansion, raised on a pedestal of magically churned earth, and it overlooked everything. He could barely sense the figures resting or patrolling the expansive corridors of that place. A part of him had hoped that he would know the form that must be Jarrett, that he would somehow lock on to the man’s spark and know precisely where to go. But he just felt shapes, the blur of bodies. Jarrett could have been any of them.

Or none.

He half expected for a sentinel to call out, for lights to flash and his location to be discovered as he stood at the wall. Apparently, the runes were working; the guards patrolling the wall said nothing. Maybe it was the runes, or maybe he was just too tired to care, but he was remarkably calm for being this close to Leanna. Locked in the far corner of his mind was the knowledge that the only thing separating him from one of the most powerful Howls in existence, as well as the hub of the Dark Lady’s forces in North America, was a few feet of earth and steel. He should have been quaking.

Instead, he felt at peace. He had been through and seen so much. This time, he wasn’t just fighting for survival or to find some unknown weapon. He was fighting for Jarrett. He was fighting for home. There was no room for fear. His duty was more important.

A large door was set into the wall a few feet to his left, twenty feet tall and made of thick, riveted steel the color of old blood. Maybe it was old blood. How the hell was he going to get in there? Not for the first time, he wished he was attuned to Air, if only so he could fly. It would have made this so much easier.

He looked behind him, to the blank snow that swept against cars and coated everything a perfect, unbroken white. The fact that he was well-concealed was actually a hindrance. Well, that was easily changed.

He opened to Earth.

It began as a tremor, then a crack that struck through the air like a gunshot, like ice breaking in the Arctic. With one great tug, he pulled at the steel rods and concrete of the road. It reared from the ground like a serpent, the cracks and metallic screeches of its movements making Tenn’s teeth clench. The concrete viper twisted. He pulled it higher, made it arc overhead, its mass raining mists of snow and gravel hail. Its silhouette blotted out the stars above him. He moved it like a marionette, his fingers twisting as he worked his magic. And then, with a roar that sounded like the heavens falling, he crashed the great weight into the wall.

The structure gave immediately.

Large chunks of earth and steel collapsed as he let his hold on Earth vanish. The road collapsed on the wall, sent the whole chunk crumbling in a plume of ash and snow. Earth rumbled hungrily in his stomach and his body shook hard enough to bring him to his knees. When he forced himself to standing, his skin cracked and his scalp tingled; he didn’t rub his hair, for fear what would fall out. It had been too much magic, but it was too late for that worry now.

In a few hours, the twins would begin their attack, and he wanted this place to be in as much of a disheveled panic as possible before then. If that hadn’t gotten the town’s attention, nothing would. It would also make for an easy escape for the civilians.

Sure enough, only moments passed before he heard the first inhuman cries. Monsters swarmed over the felled wall, swelling into the otherwise-quiet night like a plague. Tenn pressed himself closer to the wall, didn’t dare to breathe. Thousands of kravens flooded into the landscape. They ran toward the remaining highway, spread out toward the mountains. Tenn prayed the twins had stayed inside the circle. A huddle of kravens ran past him, so close he could have reached out and touched the decaying gray flesh. Their jaws drooled saliva and congealed blood, their teeth broken, their bloodshot eyes and sagging nostrils seeking out whoever had done this. Here he was, inches away from the monsters that had once made his hair stand on end. And they didn’t even see him. He shot a pulse of Earth at the ground beneath a creature’s feet, made it stagger. It fell, and he watched as the other kravens piled on top of it. The sound of ripping flesh filled the air, along with a putrid scent he didn’t want to place.

Damn cannibals.

When the tide of kravens began to lessen, he edged along the opening and slipped into the town.

Guards huddled in a tight circle near the entrance, a few pointing at the wall and yelling. Tenn stayed far away, but he didn’t need to be close to hear the anger in their voices. What do you mean you couldn’t sense any magic? he could imagine them screaming.

Don’t worry, he thought as he began racing through the streets. Leanna will be dead before you can be held responsible.

The place must have been a skiing village before Leanna turned it into her own personal prison and sweatshop. The buildings that lined the street had high A-framed roofs and Swiss latticework hanging from the eaves. Dead strings of lights still twined over the roofs and empty windows. In spite of the smoke rising over the city, no fires burned within these dwellings. Tenn could sense the people crowded inside, twenty or more to a house, all huddled together to stay warm. A few faces peeked timidly through the windows, drawn by the commotion outside, but not one of those gaunt figures stepped out. Tenn couldn’t blame them. Kravens and necromancers roved the streets. He had no doubt that the citizens were only safe within their hovels, and even that wasn’t guaranteed.